Ferox Flowers
by blankprofe
Summary: Modern flower shop au, featuring Inigo. [R&R?]
1. A Man for Flowers

It had been a month since the former owner of Ferox Flowers passed on the establishment to Inigo. Sumia, his former boss, finally managed to confess to the love of her life, Chrom. The sweets and flowers she sent almost daily to the man had finally come through, and in a show of courage, she'd managed to win his heart.

A large bouquet to flowers accompanied her confession to him, but to her surprise, Chrom had come into the flower shop with the same intention as hers. As soon as she announced that she'd admired him and loved him, Chrom dropped to one knee and pulled a small box out, revealing an elegant silver band.

The wedding was a simple affair, the only thing extraordinary about it were the tastefully placed floral arrangements. A short service was followed by a small reception, the couple's closest friends wishing them well. The sudden announcement and date of their wedding made it difficult for all of their friends to come, but well-wishers sent their best to the happy couple.

Inigo remembered the reception fondly. His mother had been dancing of course, and with some encouragement, and alcohol, she'd gotten him to dance as well. The rest was a hazy blur, but he did get home with minimal embarrassment.

After their marriage, Sumia and Chrom had decided to move to Ylisse. Sumia left the flower shop in Inigo's care, citing that the shop would do well with him and for him. Placing the keys in his hand, she'd wished him a happy new chapter in his life, and left with Chrom to begin hers.

Checking the clock, Inigo saw that it was still just an hour past noon. Far from closing time. Getting up, he rounded the counter and began sweeping away the stray petals that littered the floor. While he swept, Inigo hummed, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the shop.

But the quiet was short lived. The door opened as a customer pushed their way into the shop, the light ringing of the bell accompanying them. Putting the broom aside, Inigo redid the bow of his apron as he went to greet the visitor.

"Welcome to Ferox Flowers, I'm here to help sweep your significant other off their feet."

"Inigo that was terrible." The man who'd entered fixed Inigo with a familiar scowl, one that hid a grin underneath.

"Oh gods with is embarrassing. I'm still working on it.. Anyways, Brady, why are you here?" His childhood friend was due to perform in the orchestral section of play later that day, and should, to the best of his knowledge, be preparing for the show.

Rolling his eyes, Brady began perusing the flowers lining the racks. "I hear the tea here's great, why else would I be at a flower shop?"

Not wanting to be outdone, Inigo mercilessly quipped back. "Sharp as ever aren't we? But the last time you were around flowers you were crying because they were so beautiful. Looking for a repeat?" But he joined Brady in his search, making note of the blooms that the other hovered over the longest.

Turning around abruptly, Brady met Inigo's eye. "It's your ma's last night directing the show. Aren't you going to watch?"

Inigo hadn't expected to face the other's piercing gaze, and quickly took a step back. "I already know it back and forth, what's the point? She's already got another show lined up anyways."

But it wasn't just that he knew the production well, and they both knew it. Just two years ago, Inigo was lined up to become a professional dancer, performing for his mother's troupe and fulfilling his childhood dream of becoming a dancer. But the fates had other things in mind. A torn ligament in his knee and an onslaught of tension headaches had put an end to his career.

Now 23, Inigo had moved on, taking a job working for Sumia after his mother decided that his moping at home was doing nothing for his health. And his time with her had helped, her flower fortunes promising that things would become better, that he could still find something to make him happy.

Inigo certainly didn't want to go back to being as unhappy has he was in the weeks, and months following the end of his chances dancing professionally. However, as much as he hated to admit it, a sense of bitterness remained.

Sensing that he was on the losing end of an argument, Brady sighed and left the other to fiddle with the already perfectly organized row of potted plants.

"How about you throw something together for your ma? You know what she likes, right?"

Nodding, and silently thanking him for dropping the subject of attending the performance, Inigo quickly picked out a delicate mix of pale orchids and white lilies. Taking the flowers behind the counter, he wrapped the bouquet in a pastel pink mesh, finishing it off with a large bow.

Handing the flower to Brady, he waved away the other when he attempted to pay.

"As if I'd charge you for flowers that are going to my mother." Grinning, Inigo took a seat behind the counter, brushing off the leaves and stems that he'd trimmed.

Taking the bouquet, Brady carefully tucked the flowers under his arm before reaching into his wallet, pulling out a ticket and wordlessly sliding it to Inigo.

"In case you change your mind." With that, he left, giving Inigo no chance to protest.

He left the ticket untouched, sliding off the chair and taking the broom back up. Inigo resumed sweeping the immaculate floor, this time with minimal humming. He aimlessly roamed the shop, prodding flowers until they dropped, wiping surfaces that already shined.

No other customers entered that day, and at five, he decided to close shop an hour early, seeing no point in staying any longer. Untying the apron, he draped it across a chair in the back room, replacing it with the coat he'd left hanging on a rack earlier. Pulling on a beanie, Inigo prepared himself for the blast of cold that the winters of Ferox so faithfully provided.

He returned to the shop, and glanced at the ticket still sitting on the counter. Picking it up, he carelessly flipped in in his hand before dropping it in a garbage bin. Giving the room a final look, Inigo decided that everything was in order, and flicked the lights off and left the building. Locking the storefront behind him, he rubbed his hand together and breathed out, watching as his breath swirled in the frosty air.

Walking down the street, the thin sheet of snow crunching beneath his feet, Inigo made his way to his car, jogging the last few feet over to get out of the cold. He turned the key, and waited for the car to heat itself before driving. Leaving the thought of an enraged Brady to deal with tomorrow, he drove to his apartment, his mind set on going to sleep as soon as he got home.

The drive was uneventful, repetitive Christmas carols marking the passing time. The traffic wasn't bad either, allowing him to get home in record time. Taking the elevator to the top floor of his complex, Inigo absentmindedly drummed his fingers against his thigh, shifting his weight from one foot to another. With a quiet ding, the door slid open, allowing him to get out.

He slipped a key out of his pocket and turned it into the lock with practiced ease, trudging into his apartment and shedding his coat and hat. Not wanting to make the trip all the way to his bed, Inigo flopped on a couch, one arm hanging off the end. Sleep didn't come, and for hours he stared at the celling, watching as the shadows from the windows grew darker.

At nine his cell rang, and squinting at the sudden glow, Inigo made out an incoming call from Brady.

"Intermission I guess." Tossing the phone on the coffee table, he let the call go to voice message. Inigo silently thanked the gods that the theater and his home were a fair distance apart, removing any chance of the violinist from storming over to his house and dragging him over in the 15 minute break between acts.

Suddenly hungry, he sat up, drifting towards the kitchen to find something to eat. Settling for a tangerine, he peeled half of it before losing interest. Tossing it aside, he slumped on the kitchen table, watching his phone vibrate angrily from the living room. Letting his head rest against the wooden surface, he sighed, his rhythmic breaths soon giving way to sleep.


	2. Hair Red as Roses

His internal clock woke him up before the faint buzzing alarm on his phone did. A thunk sounded his phone's fall off the edge of the coffee table, and allowing himself a few seconds to blink the sleep form his eyes, Inigo finally sat up.

His neck cracked in protest, and with a groan he rubbed the aching muscles, deciding that sleeping on the kitchen table wasn't something he wanted to do ever again. Checking the clock hanging from the wall, he saw that he still had an hour until he needed to get to work, and with a final stretch, Inigo got up to make breakfast.

His cooking skills weren't particularly fantastic, but even while half asleep he managed to toast a bagel and get a pot of coffee running without major difficulty. While nudging aside plates in the cupboards, his hand brushed against a tin of loose leaf tea. He briefly considered heating a pot of water for it instead of taking his usual morning brew, but abandoned the idea as a cheery ding sounded the arrival of two halves of a lightly toasted bagel.

Pulling a block of cream cheese from the refrigerator, he made a mental note to stop by a grocery store before heading home later that night. A thin layer of spread topped the toast and he idly nibbled the food while circling the kitchen. Finishing off one, Inigo tossed the second half in a bag for later and moved to the living room to pick up his abandoned cell.

"6 missed calls. Not bad." Flicking through the caller IDs, he saw that Brady had sent most of them. The last had been from his mother. But with no voice mails to accompany the calls, Inigo decided that replying was a problem for another day.

He'd wasted enough time with food, and setting aside his phone, Inigo shrugged off the clothes he'd worn yesterday and changed into another ensemble. A quick trip to the bathroom confirmed that he looked presentable, and with that he grabbed his keys and was out the door.

* * *

><p>It was barely seven when Inigo reached the flower shop. Stamping the snow from his boots he quickly opened the door to get out of the cold weather. Shutting the door behind him, he unwound the scarf he had on and walked briskly to the back room. Stowing his street clothes away, he pulled on his florist's apron and neatly tied the strings together before preparing for the day.<p>

A sticky note on the counter reminded him that in 30 minutes a customer would be picking up an order they had placed earlier. Nodding to himself, he gathered the flowers necessary to fill the request. The order didn't specify what colors to use, so he settled for white roses and yellow tulips, a cheery mix to brighten up the cold weather.

The counter was soon piled with roses and tulips, the former of which had to have its thorns removed. Briefly rifling through the drawers that held his tools, it became apparent that he'd lost the thorn stripper. Which was fine with him. Using a floral knife let him keep the leaves on the stem, a small feature he thought allowed the bloom to keep some personality. Dragging a knife along the edge of the stem, Inigo methodically stripped the rose, watching as a pile of spikes grew on the countertop.

Time passed by more quickly than he realized, and soft ring of the bell sounded the arrival of a customer. Sparing a moment to look up, Inigo was unable to see the visitor's face. They'd disappeared behind of the racks, apparently browsing. Glancing at the clock, Inigo noted that the order wouldn't need to be completed for another 10 minutes.

Silently cursing the amount of time it was taking to finish prepping the flowers, he picked up the pace, flicking the knife quickly down the stems. Leaning against the counter, he used a bit more force than necessary. Absorbed in his work, Inigo missed the customer sliding up to the counter. During one of the downward strokes, the customer slammed a hand against the countertop, startling Inigo. The knife slipped from the stem and left a gash on his palm.

"Oh gawds, I didn't mean for that to happen." The visitor exclaimed while rushing around the counter. Grabbing Inigo's hand, she steered him towards the sink, ignoring his protests and dousing his hand over the running water. The sudden cold stung for a second before soothing the cut.

"Miss, it's fine. Happens all the time." Glancing at the other's worried face, he couldn't help but tease. "But it's not every day that a lady as lovely as yourself takes my hand."

She threw him an incredulous look, a blush rising on her face that rivaled the red of her hair. Letting go of his hand, she pursed her lips before huffing in indignation. "You. Are you an idiot?"

Turning off the tap, Inigo pressed a towel against his hand. "Just paying compliments where they're due. Regardless of the situation." Taking a peek at the gash, he found that the blood had staunched, and searched for a bandage. Brushing aside the incident, he covered the cut and went back to business.

"Anyways, how may I help you?" He stopped himself from throwing in a 'darling,' seeing that the other was still fuming at his last pass.

She glanced at his now bandaged hand before flicking her eyes up to meet his. Lips still pursed, it seemed as if she was about to snap at him. Instead, she took a deep breath and apologized. "I'm sorry about your hand. I was just, trying to get your attention." Awkwardly shuffling back around the counter, she pointed at the half finished bouquet. "I think that's mine. Severa? I called in yesterday."

Inigo swept the flowers strewn across the countertop into a neat bundle, wrapping them with practiced ease. "You called in? If I remember correctly there was a rather deep voice on the other end. A boyfriend?"

Severa rolled her eyes. "No you dummy, my father. The flower are for my mother."

Smiling, Inigo handed the bundle to her waiting arms. "Well, you have a fine taste in flowers. For her birthday?"

The bouquet changed hands, and with indifference Severa looked back at Inigo. "Her death."

"Ah. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive." His attempt at small talk had failed, and not wishing to cause any more unintentional distress, he cleared the countertop of stray thorns and leaves.

"Hey, don't worry about it. No harm. Maybe your hand." She gave him a lopsided grin and passed him the money for the flowers.

"How about you pay me in another visit sometime? I could do with the excitement." Inigo still felt off about their first encounter, and wanted to send her off on a slightly happier note. Unsure if she'd like his company, he expected her rejection. He was surprised when Severa stuffed the bills into an empty vase near the register and stuck her tongue out at him.

"You don't know when to give up, do you?" Smartly turning around, she purposefully walked towards the door. Yanking it open, a blast of cool air swept her hair aside. Turning back, she tilted her head up and offered him a lofty smile. "I expect flowers and dinner at the least Mr. Florist. Be ready." With that she pulled the door closed and silence descended once more.

Blinking, Inigo processed everything that had happened. His usually fruitless flirting had landed him a, date? Chewing on his lip, he recounted every detail of the past few minutes. He'd forgotten something.

"Ah, I forgot to tell her my name."

* * *

><p>AN: I didn't have a solid plot in mind when I started this, but I guess there's a ship now. Also, if it wasn't apparent, Cordelia is dead.<p>

I'd love to get some feedback on how it's going so far. Still new to writing so reviews would be appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	3. Falling, Not Necessarily in Love

The quiet of the shop left Inigo to deal with the thoughts roaring through his head. Determined to keep himself from being caught up in his brush with the attractive, slightly scathing, but otherwise absolutely. "This isn't working." Stopping his derailing train of thought, he steepled his hands and rested them against his forehead in an attempt to clear his mind.

It seemed to work, and a few moments later, Inigo hopped off the chair he had confined himself to and got back to work. Peering into the numerous containers lining the walls, he checked the water, snapping off any dying leaves on the flowers resting in them as he passed. Spotting a container of slightly cloudy water, he removed it from the rack and drained its contents in the sink. He examined the ends of the stems of the flowers, deciding that they needed a trim. And so he worked, refilling containers and taking care not to bruise any of the flowers.

As he moved back and forth, the only sound were his shoes against the tiled floor, soon punctuated by an occasional squeak of sole against floor as stray drops of water pooled on the surface. Inigo failed to notice the amount of water that had gathered, and only realized his mistake when one of his feet slipped and he crashed to the ground, a magnificent spray of water and flowers splashing against his chest.

He lay on the ground, at a loss for words. And for the second day in a row, he found Brady's scowling face peering into his. Inigo had missed him coming in, but he offered a weak smile and a shrug. Or as much of a shrug he could from the ground.

Shaking his head, Brady offered his hand to Inigo, who took it gratefully and allowed himself to be pulled up. Despite being indoors, he was already shivering, the cold watering dripping from his clothes.

"Better change before ya catch your death." Despite his glower, Brady's tone carried a hint of worry. He knew that cold weather and the sudden drench were no good for Inigo's legs. The old injuries played up in the winter, that they both knew.

Tossing the sopping apron on the counter, Inigo wrung out a corner of his shirt. "Afraid I don't have a spare at the moment." He picked a stray petal from his collar, tossing it into a garbage bin and watching as it landed with a splat against the ticket that Brady had given him yesterday.

If Brady noticed, he didn't mention it. Inigo had failed to show up at the night before. That was testament enough. Instead, he sighed and slapped his fluffy hat over Inigo's head. "You're lucky Gerome's right across the street. He's bound to have enough sense to keep a spare set of clothes."

Lifting the hat from his eyes, Inigo stifled a snort. "No this is fine. He's just going to call me an idiot."

"Can it. You are an idiot. Now let's go." And for the second time that day, Inigo was dragged against his will to help he insisted he didn't need. Into the freezing wind they marched, and after sprinting across the street, they made it to the warmth of Gerome's café and bakery.

Bursting into the café with more force than necessary, Brady held Inigo up by the elbow, brandishing him at Gerome as if he were a wet kitten. Gerome simply raised an eyebrow, wordlessly asking a question.

"He doesn't have anything to change into, and you probably do. Also, he's freezing."

Sighing with as much exasperation as Brady had earlier, Gerome glanced past the pair, checking to see that the other people in the restaurant were well situated before waving the two into the kitchen.

Cherche was flipping through a magazine, and after a quick word from Gerome, she left to tend to the customers. The three ended up in the break room, and as soon as Inigo walked in, a shirt was sent flying towards his face. He caught it, but as soon as he lowered it, a towel smacked into him.

Brady lounged carelessly on a couch, and Gerome quickly glanced over Inigo, noting that a top was all he needed. Motioning towards a space heater in the corner, he invited Inigo to stand by it to dry off. Nodding in thanks, Inigo peeled off his shirt and draped it over the heater, slipping on the button on Gerome had offered him. He turned his back to the heater, letting it dry the back of his pants.

"Not your day, is it?" Brady casually remarked from his position on the couch.

Raising his hands in defeat, Inigo offered a sheepish smile.

Brady's eyes narrowed when he spotted the bandage. "What happened to your hand?"

"Not my day remember?" Inigo turned the palm towards himself, running a thumb over the white fabric. "Though, I did score a date."

Both men seated on the couch turned their heads towards him. Both with a look of disbelief.

"When? Today?" Brady asked with genuine incredulity.

"Today." Inigo turned his shirt over, the heater gently baking the other side of the fabric.

"And you're meeting them later today?"

"Maybe?" He decided not to meet there eyes, suddenly more interested in the progress of his shirt.

"What do ya mean 'maybe?'"

"I mean, she mentioned dinner so I'm assuming sometime later in the day. But we didn't pick a day? Or time. Or place." As he spoke, each word grew softer, and by this time he had turned his back to the two on the couch.

Gerome, who'd been silent, finally spoke. "Inigo."

"Yes..?"

"You're an idiot."

Sighing, Inigo turned towards them. "So I've heard."

* * *

><p>His pants were sufficiently dried, but his shirt stubbornly refused to comply. Inigo left it with Gerome, as random for the top he was borrowing. Giving his thanks, he bounded out of the doors, returning to his own shop.<p>

Rolling up the sleeves, he grumbled to himself that the shoulders were too wide. "Since when was Gerome this broad shouldered?"

Brady was still with him, nudging the wilted flowers on the floor with his foot. "He always was." Bending to pick up the dying sprigs littering the ground, he dumped them into the garbage bin, covering the ticket that lay inside. He noticed it, and in resignation, abandoned the mission he'd come bearing earlier. If Inigo wanted to be stubborn about this, then so be it.

Clapping Inigo on the shoulder, he made his departure. "Take care of yourself. I ain't always going to be around to help ya." Pausing at the door, he looked back. "And, Oliva sends her thanks for the flowers."

Inigo stopped mopping, and glanced curiously at the other. "I didn't send them?"

"As if I'd take credit for a bouquet I didn't pay for." Shaking his head once more, Brady offered a halfhearted wave before leaving.

Smiling, Inigo returned to clearing the floor, a hum rising to accompany the modest twirls of the mop.

* * *

><p>He finished the day without further incident, helping customers with a smile and closing up shop at 6. Throwing on his coat, Inigo headed out the door, reminding himself to pick up some food at a local market.<p>

As he perused the shelves, he ticked items off a mental checklist. Eggs. Pasta. Potatoes. Check. Check. Check. But as he filled the basket, he realized that he wasn't all that hungry. Which was odd considering he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

"No sense in leaving the pantry empty though."

He finished shopping, loading the goods into the passenger seat of his car. Driving home was as bland an affair as ever, and soon enough he was home. Tossing the food into the refrigerator, Inigo changed into more comfortable clothes. He added Gerome's shirt to a growing pile of laundry and promised himself that he would take care of it later.

Plopping on the cough, Inigo flipped on the television, intent on drowning himself on the first channel to pop up. An action film was what he got, and he pulled his knees to his chest, resting his head against them. He made it half way through the movie when he was too bored to focus his eyes on the screen. Turning the program off, he dragged himself off the couch and moved to his bedroom.

Diving under the duvet, Inigo rolled from one end of the bed to the other, finally settling into a comfortable position. Staring at one end of the dark room, he waited for sleep to come, and eventually, it did.

* * *

><p>AN: Sumia fell plenty of times, and it looks like she rubbed off on Inigo.<p>

Thank you for the reviews! The feedback [through PM] is really helping!

This wasn't exactly how I planned the chapter to play out, but it is what it is. On another note, a plot has more or less appeared on paper, though it may have not in the chapters so far. Again, thank you for reading! And a review pointing out things I did wrong/right would be fantastic. [not sure how well I'm doing so far haha. but apparently I'm doing alright?]


	4. Aloe Ferox

Leaning against the counter, Inigo beat a rhythm into the wood with the incessant tapping on his fingers. The absence of business that the early morning brought never failed to bore him half to death. But luckily, today was the day that the florist's truck would swing by to help him restock the store. Seeing the freshly cut flowers always bought an odd thrill, something along the lines of beauty and how fleeting it was.

The sound of screeching brakes and the glow of red tail lights snapped him out of his poetic wanderings. "Speak of the devil." No sooner had he thought of the arrival of the fresh flowers, the truck pulled in, neatly parking into front of the storefront. Hopping off the stool and tightening the apron's bow, Inigo jogged out to meet the delivery.

The driver had just rolled up the back of the truck, appreciating his handiwork. Tipping the top of his cap up, he shot Inigo a wicked grin. "Hey there Eternal Chasity."

"Owain? Since when did you do deliveries?" Answering to Eternal Chasity wasn't one of his best moments, but seeing Owain this early in the morning, and out of the blue, was enough to bring a lapse in judgment. The last Inigo had heard from his friend, he was out on a journey to find his one true calling. Which might explain why he always changed occupations.

Slapping Inigo's back, Owain gestured to his charge. "Duty called, and I answered. This mighty truck is who I answer to now."

Rolling his eyes, Inigo began to perusing the plants, making sure to point out which blooms he needed. Owain was too happy to oblige, checking off the orders on his clipboard with gusto.

The two caught up, with more bantering than necessary. They began to carry to buckets of flowers from the truck to the store, taking care not to damage the plants. With the store stocked, Inigo allowed himself one last look over the contents of the truck before letting Owain close the back.

Inigo stopped when he got to an odd looking succulent with a towering red stem. Calling Owain over, he gestured to the odd plant. "And what might that be?"

Peering that the plant that Inigo was pointing to, Owain tsked. "Oho, so the mighty aproned florist doesn't know what this noble botanical beauty is called?"

"Owain you're in an apron too, you know that righ-"

"BESIDES THE POINT."

"No I don't know, now please tell me." Arguing with Owain, as amusing as it was, would get him nowhere. "Enlighten me oh scion."

Scoffing, Owain crossed his arms before answering. "Aloe Ferox. I'd think you'd know since your store is called, you know, Ferox Flowers."

Shrugging, Inigo offered his hands up. "Sumia named it, not me. And I thought it was after the city. But it's interesting that a Ferox plant exists." And such an odd looking plant to boot. "I think I'll take one of those too."

"Impulse buys aren't a very good business model."

"Call it intuition. Now hand over the plant."

More than happy to get rid of his inventory, Owain tossed the potted aloe to Inigo, watching as it landed against his chest with a thud, soil flying in all directions. Shooting Owain a glare, Inigo stuck childishly his tongue out at the blonde before taking the plant indoors. Owain laughed and waved before sliding back into his truck and driving off.

* * *

><p>Placing the aloe next to the register, Inigo shifted the pot to find a nice angle. The thick green leaves hung heavily, small spikes adorning the edges. But the sturdy leaves felt nice, and he ran his hand across one of the broad surfaces. The ringing bell that signaled a customer caught his attention, and he took a moment to peek out from behind the large plant to greet whoever had entered.<p>

A wide grin broke his face, and he felt butterflies dancing in his stomach when he recognized the haughty face looking back at him. Spinning his stool towards the center of the counter, he propped his chin in one hand before addressing her. "It's a bit early for dinner isn't it? Did you miss me that much?"

"Oh please, don't flatter yourself." Tossing her head, Severa placed a hand on her hip. But the odd plant that Inigo had decorated the table piqued her interest. Nodding towards the pot, her asked, "What's that ugly thing?"

"Aloe Ferox. Apparently Ferox is a type of plant." He got up and circled around the counter, grabbing a flower as he neared Severa. He offered her the bloom to her, a particularly red tulip. "But something tells me you're not here to discuss plants."

Smiling wryly, she took the flower, twirling it between her fingers before bringing it to her nose. "And what makes you think that? You are a florist. Why else would I be here?"

Sighing dramatically, Inigo brought a hand to his heart. "You wound me. Must I spell it out? Flowers and a date, remember?" Pausing, he added. "Though, you might be here to order the flowers for that date."

Scoffing, Severa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "As if I'd go out with someone who won't even tell me his name."

Realizing that she was entirely correct, he backtracked. "Ah. True. Let me introduce myself." Bowing, he took her free hand in his and brought it to his lips. "Name's Inigo, don't forget it." Winking, he allowed himself to send her a cheeky smile.

A light blush colored her face, and Severa drew back her hand. Quickly regaining her composure, she breathed through her nose, not meeting his eye. "Anyways, are you taking me out or not?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

><p>Closing shop early, Inigo led Severa across the street, promising that the establishment was fantastic. "Trust me, Gerome wouldn't give me to wiggle room to insult him over anything." With that, he set up an impromptu lunch, waving hello to Cherche before breezing into the seating area. Choosing a comfortable booth, Inigo gestured for Severa to take a seat ahead of him. He took his own place across from her, and flagging Gerome down.<p>

Raising an eyebrow, Gerome strode over, tucking his pencil behind his ear and pulling two menus out of his apron. He was too tactful to outright as if this was Inigo's mysterious date. But Inigo knew him well enough to tell what he was thinking.

"Gerome, Severa. Severa, Gerome." Getting introductions out of the way, Inigo quickly began ordering drinks. "I'll take a coffee. Severa?"

Nodding to Gerome in greeting, she offered him a small smile. "I'll take a coffee too. Thanks."

Noting their orders, Gerome set down the menus and headed back to fill their requests.

Glancing over the menu that he'd seen a hundred times over, Inigo picked out a club sandwich. Severa was inspecting the items more carefully, reading each description before settling on her choice.

"Well you got rid of him rather quickly." She gestured at Gerome, who was placing their drinks on a tray, almost ready to bring them over.

Inigo didn't deny. "More time to talk to you."

Shaking her head, Severa bit back a smile. "You're ridiculous."

Before he could answer, Inigo found a swathe of fabric flying towards his face. Snatching it out of the air, he sent an accusatory look at Gerome.

Gerome had made sure his aim was true, successfully cutting Inigo off before he could speak. "You forgot this the last time you were over."

Biting his cheek, Inigo realized that he'd never done the laundry, and Gerome's shirt was no doubt piled under a mountain of clothes. "Rude."

Ignoring Inigo's less than pleased glare, Gerome set a cup of coffee on the table. "You're the one that always says they want to get manhandled."

Keeping himself from sputtering, Inigo neatly quipped back. "I'll get your shirt back to you. Eventually."

Shrugging, Gerome set Severa's drink in front of her before taking a notepad out of his apron and wordlessly asking for their orders.

"The usual." Inigo was fairly certain the Gerome knew what that was, and left it up to his broody friend to figure it out.

"I'll have a chicken salad." Handing her menu back to Gerome, she turned her attention to her coffee, running a finger around the edge of the cup.

Writing their orders down, Gerome took back the menus with a nod and returned to the kitchen. In his wake an awkward silence fell. Inigo opted to cover it but taking a sip of his drink.

Severa broke the silence, with the delicacy of a sledge hammer. "So, are you two dating or having a fling or."

Inigo nearly choked on his drink, and coughed repeatedly before being able to answer her. "No, oh no, not what you're thinking. Just good friends. Oh gods no that's not what I meant. It's a long story. That doesn't sound good either. I, uh. I needed to borrow a shirt."

Severa narrowed her eyes.

Trying to explain, Inigo assured her. "I fell and got splashed in water. Gerome had the only spare shirt. Honest truth."

Flicking her eyes from the shirt to Inigo, Severa arched one eyebrow. Taking a sip of her coffee, she set it down again before meeting his eyes. After an eternity, a smile broke out, and she let out the smallest laugh. "Only teasing. As if you could score with someone like him. But that was rude, kidding."

Inigo's jaw dropped, both in surprise and relief. "I would never lead anyone one. That much I can promise. If I was sending mixed signals, I really am sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I could more or less tell that you two are close friends. And you look smart enough to not drag your date into the same restaurant that the one you're two timing on works in." She shot him an apologetic look, realizing that she might have gone a bit too far for only their second meeting. "I hope you won't hold this against me."

Signing, Inigo waved her off. "Water under the bridge. No need to bring it up again."

Gerome gilded in moments later, setting the pair's food down and leaving just as noiselessly. The two looked appreciatively at their orders. Before they started eating, Inigo decided to start fresh.

"How about a do over?" Rubbing the back of his neck, he pulled up a line as old as the books. "So, tell me about yourself?"

* * *

><p>AN: A long overdue update! It's almost 3 am, so the chapter's probably riddled with typos and plot holes, odd pacing, awkward patches etc. Anyways, here's the first part of Inigo and Severa's day out. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.<p> 


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